Have Mercy

Son Ford Thomas’s Last Talk with the Lord

You know, the blues is nothing but the devil…you can’t serve the Lord and the devil too.—James “Son Ford” Thomas

I am the arm anchoring the recordand the needle. I am the jukebox’ssteel and grease: the key of E hidden deep.If I can’t hold it in my head, I can’tdo it with my hand. The devil’s got meby the ear saying, See the Saturdaynight ladies dancing, the cigars, bourbonand fried chicken. This is the dream, he says,of who you will someday be. Dig a grave,pinch clay into a human skull, studythe blues—they’re all the same damn thing. I’ll workthe guitar like its frets are dead men’s teethtill my own shadow comes knocking. I’ll dieknowing you stood in a corner watching.